The Vernal Ball
by MissInkBlood
Summary: Emily Brians can't figure out why she is so interested in Draco Malfoy. He's an infuriating mystery, and not the only one at Hogwarts this year. Someone is messing with the students. They're going rabid, running around after hours and attacking others. As if the Tri-Wizard tournament wasn't enough! And the worst bit? Another Tri-Wizard tradition to uphold: The Vernal Ball.


**Chapter One**

"I'm dead serious, Emily. He was staring the whole time!" Vanessa said, shifting her books to her other arm so that she could lean closer to her friend. Her dark curls fell onto the black robes that she wore and nearly tripped as the two girls reached the steps leading down to the dungeons.

"Shush, you're way too loud!" Emily hissed, but she felt her cheeks blushing a hot red anyway. "It's not like I like him, anyway. He's so cocky!"

Vanessa shot her a mischievous smile. "So why do you care if I'm too loud?" Emily opened her mouth to respond, but the words died in her throat. After a few moments of painful silence, she spat out, "I don't!"

"Oh, how lovely then!" Her friend cheered as the two stepped into the crowd of impatient fourth years around the dungeons. Emily knew that at any moment, the dark Professor Snape would come sweeping into the room, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him, so she felt a rise of panic in her throat towards Vanessa's words. Still, she shrugged placidly. "So you wouldn't mind me telling everyone that Draco Malfoy has been keeping a close eye on Miss Em over here? You don't mind if I mention a certain little event in the North Tower a few weeks ago...?"

Without a second thought, Emily whirled on her, wrenching out her wand in a flying wink. Vanessa had already leapt out of the way, roaring with laughter. Emily's silencing charm whizzed past with a swirl of blue and hit the bulky Millicent Bulstrode instead, who doubled over in shock and blanched at the ground. _Stupid Slytherins,_ Emily thought before piercing Vanessa with her frozen glare. "Don't you ever speak of that, do you hear me?" She sneered angrily, "Nothing happened in the North Tower. Nothing is happening with Dra - with Malfoy. He is a vile, rude, pig headed, self centered, cocky, arse - "

"Am I really, now?" A familiar, cold voice drawled from behind her. Emily's heart jumped into her throat as she twirled around in a panic, tripping over her own feet. She thought, with horror, that she was about to fall flat face onto the chilly cobblestone floor, but then two hands by the wrists and swung her back up. A pair of silver eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn't quite place, but it was soon gone, and a lean boy with slightly disheveled blonde hair and a thin, peaked face smiled wickedly.

"Careful what you say, Brisson." Draco Malfoy said quietly, and Emily felt her heart rate pick up as he leaned closer. "You might hurt someone with those harsh words." Emily drew back slightly, but his grip around her wrists only tightened.

"Or what," She said coldly, "you'll go crying to your father? Poor Draco, can't even solve his own problems without his rich daddy stepping in." She expected him to get angry, but instead he just stepped forward and she became very aware of the fact that people were starting to stare.

"Or maybe I'll leave my father out of this completely and -"

Suddenly, a body shoved forward and marched up to them, shaking her bushy head of hair angrily. "Malfoy, leave her alone!" Hermione Granger scolded, throwing her hands on her hips. "Nobody needs to hear your ridiculous boasting every day, thank you!"

Malfoy threw her a dirty look but released Emily, who forced herself to retreat calmly and rub her sore wrists. "It's a shame Krum managed to save you from the lake, Granger." He sneered nastily. "Maybe next time you'll be trapped with a blast ended skrewt with a taste for filthy mudblood."

Hermione flushed red and Emily felt a sudden surge of anger wash through her. She glared at Malfoy.

"You're just sore that Potter was picked for the tournament and not you!" She shot back. "He gets the spotlight again, and your stuck in the stands." Finally his grey eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, and his pale hand twitched toward the pocket of his robes where Emily knew his wand was stowed. She felt Hermione come to her side and place her hand on her shoulder, squeezing in warning, but Emily stared straight at Malfoy defiantly as his mouth twisted, ready to attack back. Before the tension could escalate any farther, a dark figure swept into the room and marched toward the dungeon doors. His greasy hair and hooked nose gave him the look of a half drowned vulture, but his voice came out low and smooth.

"I don't care for your petty personal disputes." Professor Snape said without looking back, "If Draco and Miss Brisson could discuss Mr. Potter's... _enthralling_ fame at a different point in time, everyone should now follow me into the classroom." He disappeared into the next room, and it wasn't until he yelled out a sharp "Now!" That people began to file in after him. Emily kept her eyes on Malfoy, refusing to be the first to break. She would stay there all day if she had to, staring at this repulsive, ignorant, dreadful, clever, witty, handsome, gorgeous, beautiful -

"Em!" Hermione said urgently, "Em, _come on_. It's not worth it. He's not worth it!" She tugged at her sleeve. "Emily, _please_! You'll just get into trouble! You'll get all of us into trouble!" Emily ignored her, and Malfoy's lip curled.

"Yes, Emily." He said in a mocking tone, "Run along like a good girl and get into class on time like a good girl. You mustn't be late, and you mustn't pick fights that you can't finish."

"I could finish a fight with you any day. You're just a daddy's boy." Emily growled.

"For goodness sake!" Hermione cried out in exasperation. "Go ahead and do what you want, both of you. I, for one, am not going to get a detention!" She huffed a sigh and hurried through the classroom door, her hair bouncing brightly behind her. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a legitimate challenge, Brisson?" He asked, stepping closer. Hermione's flourished exit had gone unnoticed by both of them.

"Could be," Emily replied, struggling to stay locked on his silver eyes that seemed to shift shades at every moment. Sometimes they were light, and sometimes they were shadowed. How peculiar... "You think you'd be up to it, daddy's boy?"

"You wouldn't think I was such a daddy's boy if you knew what I could do to you." He said immediately. The words came out rough and rushed, and when they were spoken he blinked as if unsure of what he had just said. Something flipped over in Emily's stomach, shock coursing through her. Did he just...? "That is, I know a ton - I know - a - I know many curses!" Malfoy stuttered, only this time there was a strange edge of panic to his tone, "You wouldn't stand a chance in a duel with - with me." Emily stood frozen, unsure how to respond. Her Gryffindor tie suddenly seemed much too tight around her neck, and the cold temperature of the dungeon had risen a considerable amount. The silence stretched on forever, echoing off the walls and ringing in her ear. It was almost deafening.

"Malfoy! Brisson!" Snape's voice cut through the air, making them both jump and turn to where the professor was standing in the doorway. "Even Potter is inside the classroom right now. Surely there is nothing so important that could be happening to the two of you that is worth _missing my lesson?"_

"No, sir." Malfoy replied at once.

"Good." Professor Snape rested his beady eyes on the two of them and then stepped back, allowing them passage. "Get. In. Now." The two started forward quickly, and as they neared the door, Malfoy stumbled and caught himself on the frame, looking white and stricken. Emily stared at him in surprise and bewilderment. Draco never stumbled...she'd never seen him anything but sure of himself.

"Are you okay-" She started.

"I'm fine!" He snapped before straightening up and shoving his way into the classroom. Emily opened and closed her mouth silently, and then followed after him, shaking her head.

"Now that we have all decided to join us," Snape said coolly as Emily sat down behind her cauldron, "we may begin. Today we will be brewing a potion called Incendium mors, also known as The Fire of Death. If done correctly, it should emit a repulsive burning oder, like that of melted rubber -" He stopped and stared at something in the front of the room. "Miss Vacanti," he began, "I do not seem to recall having you in my class this period. This is a Slytherin and Gryffindor lesson. Are you not of Ravenclaw house?"

There was a slight pause, and then Emily saw her friend leap up from her chair in a wild frenzy, gathering her books quickly.

"Oh my goodness!" Vanessa cried, her curls whipping about her bright red face as she scrambled for her wand, "Oh my goodness, you're right! Oh sir, I'm so sorry, I must have gotten caught up with - how could I have - Oh, what will Professor Binns say?" She dashed for the door, knocking into a desk on her way out. "I'm terribly sorry, Neville!" She said when his books crashed to the ground. "No, let me get it." With a wave of her wand, the books rose into the air, stacked themselves, and then landed neatly on the corner of his desk. "Oh, how could I have been so _careless!_ " She flew out of the room with a cry. Emily felt a mixture of pity and involuntary amusement toward her friend, but all feelings of laughter disappeared as Snape smiled cruelly.

"Apparently, Ravenclaws aren't all as smart as they're knocked up to be. Such a shame." Several snickers flitted about the room, mostly from the Slytherins. Emily felt a flare of irritation.

"Oh, come on, It was just a mistake!" She said loudly, "Are people not allowed to make mistakes anymore?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape announced, looking down at her with distaste. "Students who arrive late to my class do not have the privilege of speaking out of turn, especially not with an attitude like that." Emily clenched her fists under the desk and closed her mouth furiously. How typical of Snape to reprimand a person for defending someone else. She glared murderously at the professor while he met her gaze head on, a flicker that was almost challenging occurred in his pitch black eyes. "To continue," he finally said, turning back to the rest of the class, "your directions are on the board. I advise you to heed them wisely, since a single mistake of order could result in a fatal loss of limbs or other body parts." His eyes rested on the face of a skinny boy with messed up black hair and a pair of round, crooked glasses whom sat but a few seats away from Emily herself. The boy's expression was stony. Snape's lip curled. "We know what a _dreadful_ loss that would be, especially with our favorite Quidditch star in the premises." Then he turned swiftly and strode back his desk, flicking his wrist lazily. Immediately, everyone's cauldrons filled with boiling water, and the chatter of voices arose as the students began to converse. Next to Emily, Hermione leaned over towards the black haired boy.

"You have to be careful, Harry!" She said worriedly, "If he's the one who put your name in the Goblet, he'll be furious that you haven't been killed yet! It's only been a few days since the second task."

"She's got a point, mate." The ginger boy with long hair and a face covered in freckles said. He sat in between Hermione and Harry, looking back and forth at them seriously. "He's been looking something dreadful lately - I mean, more than usual. You don't suppose he's trying to form a plan, do you? Something else-"

Emily cut in suddenly, unable to keep herself from chiming in her own bit. "Oh, Ron, don't be ridiculous. There's nothing that he can try as long as Dumbledore's here, not to mention two other headmasters and half of the Ministry of Magic. He would have to be insane!"

Harry looked over at her and tugged absentmindedly at his tie. He shook his head and frowned. "I wouldn't put it past him to try. You're right, though. It would be nearly impossible to pull something off while we're surrounded by teachers."

"Not that people haven't done it before." Malfoy's snide voice remarked. Emily and Hermione twisted around in their eats to see him sitting by the cauldrons behind them, leaning back lazily in his chair while next to him the two giant ugly lumps called Crabbe and Goyle sneered stupidly. They were both dicing up horn-back beetles for the potion, no doubt for Malfoy himself. "You'd better watch your back, Potter." He said, smiling maliciously. "Someone doesn't want you here, and they've only got one more chance to fix your presence. I'll bet you're regretting ever putting your name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Ron growled, his face turning a light shade of red, but Hermione lifted her chin haughtily.

"Harry didn't put his name in, and you know it." She said, "It hardly matters though. I doubt you even know what gillyweed is, much less how to survive fighting a thirty foot dragon."

Malfoy looked her up and down without any emotion. "You wouldn't have quite so much vibrato if you were still sitting at the bottom of that lake, now would you, Granger?"

Hermione flushed angrily, and Ron stood up, towering over the table with his fists clenched. Harry merely looked into his cauldron.

"Malfoy, stop it." Emily hissed, "You've gone way too far." Ron stepped forward, shaking slightly.

"Why, you disgusting, idiotic, stupid, son of a-"

"What the devil is going on here?" Snape appeared out of no where, flourishing his hand toward them as though they were merely pesky flies that he couldn't seem to be rid of. "Is there no way I can have a lesson in this classroom? Potter, Weasley, Brisson - I see nothing in your cauldrons. Five points each from Gryffindor, and 5 points from Granger for distracting them."

Hermione gasped, "But sir, I wasn't-" Snape silenced her with a stare and clasped his hands in front of him with a cruel little smile. "It seems to me that this set up isn't working out too well, is it? Now let's see..." He scanned the room patiently and then pointed to a desk on the other end of the class. "Mr. Potter might do well over there by Miss Parkinson, and Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy might as well switch seats. Yes, that's right. Mr. Weasley shall move back between Zabini and Miss Bulstrode. That's it." There was a slow scraping of wood against stone as chairs were pushed back and bodies stood up. Hermione glanced up quickly from her cauldron.

"But sir," she squeaked, "my potion-"

"You will do fine starting over." Snape snapped, "Now move!" Hermione jumped and gathered her books, hurrying to wedge herself between the reluctant looking Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy rammed her shoulder as he stood up and came over to lower himself gently into the chair beside Emily, who felt her face heat up with anger towards the professor. The anger had already been there, leftover from his little jab at Vanessa, but now it was hot and fresh, and it took gripping the edges of her chair until her knuckles turned white to prevent herself from cursing his slimy, stately face. Snape must have sensed her frustration, for he lifted his chin proudly and whirled around, making his way through the isles. With a short outburst of a sigh, Emily stood and went to the front of the room to collect her ingredients. She then sat back down, pushed forward her horn-backed beetles and began chopping them with sharp, jerky movements. There was a strange buzzing in her ears that made her ignore Draco as he leaned toward her, flicking back his blond hair.

"I saw that one coming. Didn't you, Brisson?" He waited for a response, but Emily gave him none, chopping and breathing deeply to keep her anger in check. He waited another moment before tapping on her desk with one finger. "Hello? Earth to Emily Brisson. Anyone there?" Emily threw down her knife and turned to Draco, who recoiled quickly from the blade that nearly took off his finger.

"You are _vile_." She hissed, "You are vile and a complete _arse,_ you know that right? How can you wish these things upon people? How can you say that stuff to Hermione about the lake? Do you have no heart?"

Draco's pale face darkened. "She's nothing but a mudblood. It doesn't matter."

"Oh, but it _does_ matter Malfoy." She replied without attempting to keep the venom out her voice. "Muggleborn or not, Hermione is ten times the wizard you ever will be! She's smart and she's kind, and she knows how to treat others with respect! There are more important things than blood. I suggest you keep that in mind when the day comes when you need her help. She may have to save your life sometime, and what are you going to do then? Tell me, what? Die because you couldn't bear to be touched by a muggleborn? What kind of death is that? The death of a coward, that's what." She hadn't even realized that tears had filled her eyes until she stopped to breathe. She cursed herself silently and rubbed at her cheeks until her vision blurred. She cursed herself again in her head, then again, and then again out loud by accident. Why did she always cry when she got worked up? Every time she started off on something, the tears would come, and she would start shaking, just like now.

"Shit-" She swore, still brushing at her eyes as she stood up. "Shit-" Malfoy started to reach towards her but she flinched back, tripping over her chair. "No, I'm fine - I just - shit-" She stumbled to the front of the room, feeling every pair of eyes on her as she hurried toward the door.

"And where do you think you're going?" Snape's voice called from behind, but Emily threw open the door. It closed behind her just as she heard Malfoy saying, "Oh, it's just allergies, Professor. Madame Pomfrey should take care of it in no time." Not pausing to wonder why Draco had covered up for her, she raced from the dungeons back up to the above hallway. She ducked her head whenever a student walked by, refusing to let them see her red eyes. Finally, she found a bathroom and burst inside.

The bathroom was large with ornate sinks and rows of stalls along the side. The whole room was empty except for a pale figure of a girl sitting gloomily on a sink, resting her chin in her palm and examining her dark pigtails in one hand with a pout.

"Get out of here, Myrtle." Emily snapped without thinking. The girl on the sink looked up, her gaze hardening as it found Emily. She rose from the sink while her translucent skin shimmered.

"My apologies, _miss,"_ Moaning Myrtle curtsied mockingly, gently floating higher up towards the veiling as she did so. "I hadn't realized this was now a _private_ bathroom. No wonder you have demanded me so patently to leave. Or is it," she said harshly, flying forward in a flash so that she was nose to nose with Emily, "because nobody wants me around in the first place! Nobody want fat, ugly, pimply, stupid, crying, annoying, moaning Myrtle around anyway! Well, fine!" She burst into tears and flew away sobbing, zooming up over the stalls and landing with a _THUNK, SPLASH!_ into one of the toilets. Emily listened carefully to make sure she was gone. After a few moments of silence, she breathed out a sigh of relief and slid to the cool, tiled floor. She clutched her trembling hand and breathed slowly in and out, in and out. Oh, how embarrassing. Of all classes, it had to potions. Of all houses, it had to be Slytherin. Of all people, it _had_ to be Malfoy. Even though she was furious with him, she was furious with herself for showing weakness in front of him. Stupid tears. She tried to tell him off, and now he was probably laughing at her, cracking some stupid but insanely clever joke about witches and Gryffindors. His jokes were always clever. Sometimes mean, but clever. She smiled slightly and felt her hand become quite still. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the bathroom wall, thinking. It wasn't that she _liked_ watching her friends be taunted by him and his jeering buddies. There was just something in the way he held himself when he knew he had the upper hand, the glint in his silver eyes when he became amused; it made her heart flutter in strange circles within her. There were other times, too. Times when he wasn't around his friends and was reading or taking a test or sometimes just sitting alone, times when that look of pride he always wore would melt away, and Emily could see the normal young boy with a shining face and an eagerness to prove himself. She liked that view of him the most. She liked the way he would bite his lip in concentration when working on his potions essays, and she liked the way he would muss up his hair when no one was looking only to smooth it back down again in a few seconds. The raw, vulnerable boy; that's the Draco she liked the most. She felt like she was the only one ever saw that Draco, though. She was the only one who realized how hard Draco was trying to build himself up around others. She always thought about that and tried to keep that in mind, but whenever he made comments like the ones about Hermione and the lake... it became very difficult.

Then of course, there was the "incident" in the North Tower. The truth of what happened was that several weeks ago, Pansy Parkinson had stolen Emily's broom care kit and told her she wouldn't get it back unless she snuck up to the North Tower at midnight to find it. Emily had reluctantly agreed, and that night had left using Harry's invisibility cloak. After countless attempts at ineffective summoning charms, she opened the door to the North Tower to find the kit just sitting there in the middle of the room. Not even pausing to be suspicious, she'd grabbed the suitcase and torn down the stairs, turning the corner and crashing right into none other than Draco Malfoy. After such a racket of cursing and crying out in pain, they were caught in a matter of minutes, both given separate detentions by their head of houses. Rumors began to fly the next morning. Emily never did find out what Draco was doing out after hours, but the Gryffindors of course thought the idea of her and Draco together absolutely hilarious, and they laughed and played along with the rumors gleefully. The Slytherins on the other hand found it revolting. Emily couldn't go down the hallway for days without being shot dirty looks or getting hissed at. Draco winked at her every chance he could get, but it was a mocking wink. Emily did her best to ignore him completely. The hype wore down by the end of the week, but it was one of the longest weeks she had ever been forced to endure. Now, as Emily sat against the cold bathroom wall thinking back, that had been the moment Draco Malfoy had really started paying attention to her. All because of some stupid misunderstanding.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, lost in thought, but eventually the bathroom door opened and Vanessa's curly head peeked inside.

"Hey, Em." She said quietly, "Are you ... are you okay?" Emily looked up at her friend, throwing up a smile. "Hermione told me you ran out of potions in quite a hurry." Vanessa continued, her eyes hesitant as if she was afraid to being it up. "Do - do I need to curse somebody?"

"No, I'm okay," Emily said, pulling herself to her feet. "I just had a moment. What time is it?"

Vanessa studied her face with a frown but answered the question. "4:30. Class just ended. Hermione brought you books up to your common room. She had to force them from Malfoy, though. I guess he almost left with them." She rolled her eyes. "The bloody git."

Emily was surprised. Why was Malfoy trying to take her books? Was he going to jinx them? She clenched her teeth firmly and marched up to Vanessa, giving her a big hug. "Thanks for coming to get me." She pulled back and grinned. "Now I'm going to head back to the Gryffindor common room and guilt Fred into giving me some sweets. I know he has some, no matter what he says!"

Vanessa laughed and held the door open for her to pass.


End file.
